


Once Upon a Shot

by sanm



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanm/pseuds/sanm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairy tales collide at this drunken college party with BTS and Got7. It's pure crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a song to set the mood: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNtTEibFvlQ>

The night was warm and the air full of promises. One could almost say there was something magical about the evening. But that would be stupid, because this was college, and if there was one place where fairy tales and magic don’t exist, it was college. Bangtan Sonyeondan was ready to enjoy their last night of freedom before classes began on Monday.

For the group’s fearless leader, Kim Namjoon, the party was a way to shake off the stress of his step family. His step brothers bullied him into doing all the housework for the week, and his hands were rubbed raw from cleaning the stains from their underwear. All he really wanted was a _drink_ , preferably of the strongest liquor he could get his hands on.

Jung Hoseok had the bright idea to bring his younger cousin, Jeon Jungkook, to his first college party. Jungkook however, was a little worried. He did not do well in large groups of people, _especially_ those he didn’t know and especially especially groups with girls.

Park Jimin could barely contain his excitement, jumping up and down like a newborn, wriggly puppy. It was his first college party, and he couldn’t wait to get _drunk_. (Oh how disappointed he would be when found out the only alcohol at this specific party would be cheap beer and hunch punch.)

Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung were like-minded in their displeasure of the evening. Yoongi was in the middle of writing his mixtape (due to drop at an as of yet unforeseeable future time) and Taehyung just didn’t want to go due to the meat market of cat-calls and casual pawing of bodies.

Sweet mama Kim Seokjin had a bad feeling that this evening was not going to go as smoothly as everyone else seemed to think, and vowed to himself that he would take care of his little babies.

At the party, the group dispersed like dust in the wind. Namjoon went to the kitchen and scooped a red solo cup full of hunch punch from the tepid cooler in the center of the room, making note of some guys doing keg standing on the back porch. _Hm_ , Namjoon thought, _that looks like fun_.

As soon as Jungkook and Hoseok entered, a group of girls with ruby red lips and tight pants swarmed the duo, attracted by their looks and charisma.

 _SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT_ , Jungkook mentally screamed, _I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE_. While the pack of hormonal wildebeests preyed on Hoseok’s smile, Jungkook slipped away down the nearest hallway and tumbled into the first doorway on the right, breathing a sigh of relief when the harsh white light characteristic of cheap bathrooms illuminated a simple toilet, bath and shower combo, and pedestal sink. Slightly traumatized from his first run-in with college girls, Jungkook grabbed the closest thing to him for comfort, which turned out to be the plunger of all things, and plopped down onto the closed toilet lid in shock.

Jimin followed Namjoon into the kitchen, expecting a full bar and being severely disappointed with the classic option of hunch punch and cheap beer. For his first official college drink, he went with the hunch punch, because go big or go home, right?

Yoongi, still thoroughly displeased and giving into his more grandpa-like tendencies, attempted to find a quiet place to work on his music. Quickly realizing that nowhere was quiet, Yoongi settled into a sofa sticky with sweat, alcohol, and probably other unmentionable things, and tried not to think about it. With a sigh, he settled his _expensive_ headphones around his neck, and pulled his laptop out of his satchel, opening up Ableton Live (not sponsored, I wish) music editing software and got down to work.

Taehyung knew immediately that the night was not going to end well as soon as he opened the door and narrowly missed a freshman running outside to throw up. However, he wouldn’t leave his hyungs, and they wanted to come out, so apparently he was staying for the next few foreseeable hours. He wandered past the living room and into the den, seeing some guys playing beer pong. He observed for a few minutes, quickly picking up the gist of the game, and put on his most innocent face, ready to hustle the shit out of some upper classmen.

Hoseok, freed from the talons of the girls, turned to consult his cousin on what he wanted to do first. He quickly discovered that his little Jungkook was missing, and frantically began calling for him. “Jungkook-ah! JUNGKOOK-AH! WHERE ARE YOU?!” However, his voice could barely carry over the pounding bass and rhythmic beat of LMFAO’s “Shots”.

Seokjin, his spider senses tingling, looked up from his conversation with the cute girl he sat next to in Philosophy 101 last semester and began looking for the source of distress. He noticed Hoseok running around like a chicken with his head cut off (and screaming like one too, probably, although he couldn’t hear him), and went over to check on him.

“Hyung, I can’t find Kookie!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“Well, where did you last see him?” Seokjin patiently questioned.

“Well, we were at the door, and this group of girls, you know they love me, came up and started - oh. Oh no. Kookie has this weird phobia of girls. Like, he’s terrified of them. He can’t make eye contact, he gets all sweaty, he hyperventilates, actually that reminds me of this one time when -”

“Focus Hoseok!”

“Right, right, sorry, but yea, long story short, he’s probably off hiding in a closet or something having a panic attack,” Hoseok finished.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME HE WAS PRONE TO PANIC ATTACKS?!? WHY WOULD YOU BRING HIM SOMEWHERE WHERE YOU KNOW THERE WOULD BE GIRLS AND DRUNK PEOPLE WHO WOULD TRAUMATIZE HIM? HOSEOK WHAT MADE YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?!” Seokjin yelled.

“Well, I thought it would kinda be like immersion therapy, you know. Like we learned in psych last semester, where we throw him into a really intense thing and he gets better faster -”

“Yah, did you sleep through that class too? It doesn’t work like that!” Jin sighed, done with Hoseok’s antics. “Look, I’ll search upstairs, and you search downstairs. I’ll have my phone if you need me. Text me if you find him, and I’ll do the same for you, ok?”

“Ok, sounds good. You’re the best hyung,” Hoseok complimented, smiling up at the older boy.

“I know,” Seokjin smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2RLb-RryEs>

**Jaebum:** _Everyone present and accounted for? Nobody’s passed out yet, right?_

**Jackson:** _Dude we just got here. Bambam isn’t even NEAR drunk yet._

**Jinyoung:** _Has anyone seen Yugyeom???_

Mark smirked at his phone screen. He should probably take charge, being the oldest in his little group of friends, and help the younger boys keep everyone in line. Tonight though? No way. Tonight he was actually going to enjoy himself. He muted the group chat and decided to hunt down another drink. Yeah, tonight was going to be a good night

—–

_What did I do to deserve this?_ Seokjin grumbled to himself. He had been looking for Jungkook for what seemed like hours. In reality, his search had only lasted about fifteen minutes up to this point. He had hoped, against his better judgement, that the boys would behave themselves and that he could have a nice, relaxing evening. Maybe actually get drunk for a change.

Seokjin was about to give up and go back downstairs when he rounded a corner and discovered a hallway he hadn’t yet searched. There were only two rooms off of this short corridor. He was about to knock on the first door, but after pausing to listen to the noises coming from the other side, he was sure Jungkook hadn’t hidden in the first room. He made his way down to the open door at the end of the hallway.

In this room were a handful of people who had managed to escape the loud party downstairs. The drinks they were sipping on seemed to be of much higher quality than the cheap stuff down in the kitchen. Despite the fact that there were a couple of girls hanging around, Seokjin glanced around to see if Jungkook was hiding in one of the room’s corners.

A boy that Seokjin was sure he recognized (and was _positive_ had graduated two years before) sauntered over, a strange green drink in hand.

“Another poor soul come looking for the good stuff, eh?” the tall, tanned boy asked, chuckling.

“Actually I was looking for my friend…. Younger kid, scared of girls. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

The older boy shook his head, “No, can’t say that I have. Wait, scared of girls??”

Seokjin just shrugged, “Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

“Well, here. The least I can do is make you an apple martini to help ease your troubles.”

Seokjin knew it was probably not the best idea to take drinks from people he barely knew. Right now, though, his irritation won over his better judgement. Plus, he had taken a class with this guy once, right? He was sure that was how he knew the guy. I mean, he didn’t seem _that_ bad.

The older boy handed the drink to Seokjin. “Now, I’ve been known to be a little heavy-handed so, well, just be warned,” he said with a smile.

Seokjin thanked him for the drink and decided to make his way back downstairs. He started to sip on the drink, face screwing up at the overpowering taste of the alcohol. _That guy wasn’t kidding,_ he thought, taking another sip. And then another. He perched on the arm of the first couch that he could find, his search for Jungkook all but abandoned. From his vantage point, he could see Taehyung playing beer pong, surrounded by guys that were easily twice his size. From the grin on his face, Seokjin assumed that he was winning. That or he was already shitfaced. _Good for him,_ he thought, barely realizing that he had already finished off his drink.

—–

Namjoon wasn’t particularly good at drinking games. Honestly, he was horrible at them. Even Seokjin, who rarely ever drank (and even _more_ rarely played drinking games with the rest of the group), was somehow better at pretty much any drinking game that Namjoon could think of. However, keg stands? He was good at those. Now, after establishing himself as the most badass person there with the longest stand by a mile, he stumbled off in search of Yoongi. _He_ would appreciate his accomplishment and tell him how wonderful he was.

Namjoon vaguely processed the distant sound of what seemed to be Hoseok yelling something about Jungkook. _Does that kid ever shut up?_ Namjoon thought, _I don’t think I’ve ever seen him **not** talking. Does he talk in his sleep, I wonder??_ Namjoon stumbled through the kitchen and one of the connecting rooms, waving to a very addled-looking Seokjin as he passed. He found Yoongi sprawled on a couch in one of the adjoining rooms, fully immersed in whatever the hell he was working on on his laptop.

“Yoooooongi,” Namjoon sang, bending over to come face-to-face with the older boy.

Yoongi scowled up at him, “Are you drunk already?” he asked, slipping his headphones down around his neck.

“Dude, you should have seen me, I absolutely -”

“Why the hell do you have only one shoe on?” Yoongi was staring at Namjoon’s feet, currently only clad in one of his prized red converse.

Namjoon stared at his feet for a moment, completely baffled, before replying. “Uh, I guess I took it off to do keg stands. I’ll go find it!”

Before Yoongi could stop his friend, who was clearly very drunk and completely unable to accomplish even the simplest of tasks in one piece, Namjoon ran off.

Yoongi thought about following him to make sure Namjoon didn’t get lost, but that would require moving and Yoongi doesn’t do that shit without being provoked.

_He’ll be fine,_ Yoongi thought as he settled back down to work.

—–

Youngjae was _bored_. This was not his first party. His freshman year had been a whirlwind of them. No, he was bored of the usual party scene. He was ready for something new. Something interesting. He was going to start this year off with a bang. That’s when he saw him. The boy didn’t look much younger than Youngjae was, but the nervous look on his face and the fact that he was holding his red solo cup with a death grip indicated that he was a newcomer to college party life.

Youngjae could be a good friend to this kid. He could take the boy, with his flaming orange hair, under his wing and teach him the ways of college parties. He could pass his legacy on to this poor, frightened looking kid.

But he was bored, and messing with this kid would be way too much fun.

—–

It had taken a lot of convincing for Yugyeom to get the older boys to take him and Bambam out drinking with them. A _lot_ of convincing. The older boys had always refused to let the two youngest boys drink with them, claiming that they didn’t want to keep track of two of them when they inevitably got drunk. After a lot of begging and promises that they would be good and check in every fifteen minutes and, as Jaebum demanded, make sure to always be in the line of sight of one of the older boys, they finally _finally_ were out at their first college party.

Now that they were here, the two youngest boys had decided to make the most of their freedom. Yugyeom had long since lost the rest of the boys and had lost count of how many cans of the cheap beer he had consumed. He was feeling good.

He had begun the night by exploring the house in which the party was held. He was baffled by the layout of the house and he wondered (drunkenly) what drugs the architect was on when he designed the place.

From what he could gather by snooping through the upstairs rooms, there were six people living in the house. Most of them were still students except for one, whom he had met and chatted with for a few minutes before getting bored with the conversation and moving on.

In the last room he encountered on his exploration of the place, he found a ukelele. _Oh,_ **hell** _yes,_ he thought. He grabbed the instrument and skipped back downstairs.

Yugyeom could barely play the ukulele sober, much less drunk off of his ass. But the alcohol humming through his veins whispered words of confidence so, naturally, he decided to play for anyone who would listen. He looked around and spotted a blonde boy sprawled out on a couch in the corner, forehead creased in concentration as he stared forlornly at the computer in his lap.

_He looks like he needs a pick-me-up,_ thought Yugyeom.

—–

Jungkook’s legs burned from being perched so precariously on the toilet for so long. He gripped the plunger (a heftier object than expected, he had marveled at the quality of this particular plunger for his first few moments hiding in the bathroom before the terror had returned full-force), knuckles white.

He had just started to feel confident in his abilities, convincing himself that he could face the terrors included in interacting with the female sex with ease, when the bathroom door flew open.

//

When Mark had made the decision to go out with his friends that night, this was the last thing he was expecting.

He had made his merry way to the bathroom (Jackson slurring “ _Don’t break the seal, man!_ ” from the spot on the floor that he had just abandoned), full bladder not being helped by the fact that Bambam dancing to “Ice Cream Cake” _drunk_ was even funnier than his over exaggerated moves sober.

He had assumed, as any rational person would, that this trip to the bathroom would be quick and uneventful. The last thing that he had expected to see when he opened the door was a small boy half-crouched on the closed lid of the toilet, eyes wide with terror, wielding…. _Wait, is that a plunger???_

//

Jungkook didn’t even think before he reacted. Wielding the (surprisingly great quality) plunger like a sword, he stood up on the closed lid of the toilet, letting loose a battle cry as he swung wildly.

He swung the plunger down on the offending form that had just burst through the door, not really thinking about why, exactly, the situation required such a violent response. The newcomer was so surprised by the smaller boy viciously swinging the plunger from his perch atop the toilet that all they could do was shield their face and try not to get hit.

He barely registered that the figure was not, in fact, a girl, but a tall, slender boy who was now scrambling back to avoid being hit by the makeshift weapon. The mystery boy tripped on the bathroom rug and fell back against the door (which had somehow swung shut in the midst of the chaos). His head made contact with the wood of the door with a smack and he fell back, unconscious.

Jungkook froze. _Oh shit, did I just kill him?_ He clambered down from his perch and hovered above the other boy, who was now slumped against the closed door. He nudged the boy’s leg with the toe of his boot.

Nothing.

He squatted down next to the unconscious figure, beginning to panic yet again. _Guys like me don’t do well in jail. I will die in jail. What the fuck did I just do. I’m too young to go to jail. I haven’t even kissed a girl yet!_

He scooted closer, trying desperately to catch any hint of life in the other boy. 

_How the hell am I supposed to explain this to Hoseok?_


	3. Chapter 3

_Holy shit. I didn’t mean for this to happen. What am I gonna do?_ Jungkook sank back down onto the toilet, staring at the unconscious form collapsed against the door. _He’ll be okay right? Yea...yea...of course he will be._

“Hey, dude. Dude, you alright?” The boy didn’t budge. Jungkook leaned over to the faucet on the sink and turned it on. He stuck his hands under the stream and flicked the water gathered in his palms onto the unconscious boy’s face. Still nothing. _Shit._

Jungkook looked around and down to the incredibly sturdy plunger still grasped tightly in his fist. Taking a deep breath for courage, he jabbed the plunger into his stomach with the rubber cup coming off his shirt with a squelch.

Mark’s eyes slowly opened as he let out a groan of pain. Jungkook instantly retracted, pulling his knees into his chest and clutching the plunger in front of him.

“Wha-?” Mark trailed off, taking in the sight before him.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. You just took me by surprise and -”

“Hey. It’s okay. I should have knocked...wait a second.” Mark’s eyes landed on the object in Jungkook’s hands. “You attacked me with a _plunger_?”

“Um. I’m _really_ sorry? But, well, at least it’s a nice looking one right?”

“Uh-huh,” Mark responded hesitantly.

The room fell silent, both boys not knowing what to say in this kind of situation.

“A-are you okay?” Jungkook asked hesitantly.

Mark sat up and rubbed the side of his head. “Yea, I think so. But, uh. I seriously need to pee so if you could, ya know…” He motioned to the toilet Jungkook was still perched on.

“Oh yea, sure.” Jungkook uncurled out of his fetal position and made to stand up before a thought hit him. His eyes grew wide as he glanced towards the door leading out to the party then back to Mark. “Actually do you think you could hold it?”

Mark, who had finally succeeded in unpeeling his protesting body off the floor, glanced over to see that a look of pure, unadulterated fear had frozen on the other’s face.

“It’s just that there are _girls_ out there.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Well yea, so?”

Jungkook tore his eyes from the door, looking just as confused. “Bro. Girls. _Girls_.”

“Okay?” The two boys stared at each other for a minute. Mark sighed. “Look, at least move aside so I can pee, alright?” At this, Mark walked towards Jungkook and the toilet he was guarding, his hands reaching for his fly. Jungkook quickly scrambled off of the seat, tripping over his feet and landing in the bathtub.

\-----

Hoseok stopped in the doorway leading to yet another room, bending over and taking a few deep breaths. He had been looking for Jungkook for what felt like _hours. Aish where is this kid. At this rate, I’ll never be able to find him. His mom is gonna kill me. **My** mom is gonna kill me. Shiiiiiiiiit. JIN IS GOING TO FUCKING **MURDER** ME._ He straightened up and took in another deep breath. _Okay. You got this. I mean where all can one little kid hide._

He stepped into the room, taking in the grinding hips and flashing strobe lights that signified he had found the dance floor. _There’s no way he would be in here._ He started to weave quickly through the crowd. Suddenly, an arm reached out of nowhere and spun him around until he was pulled flush against another’s chest. Hoseok, startled, braced his hand against the other’s waist to steady himself. The stranger, having forcibly interlocked Hoseok’s other hand with his own, stretched both of their arms out to the side and proceeded to waltz them around the room.

 _The fuck?_ Hoseok looked up into a very _very_ drunk Namjoon’s face.

All that came out of Hoseok’s mouth was a squeak. His eyes widened. _I can’t talk. I can’t talk. I. CAN’T. TALK._ He tried wrenching his arms out of Namjoon’s grasp, but his grip only tightened as he twirled him around the room. _I do NOT have time for this._

\-----

For the last two hours Yoongi had been working on his new song. Well, trying to at least. He wasn’t making much progress to be quite honest. His first problem was that there was so much _noise_. Seriously. It was so loud that even his beautiful, high quality, noise cancelling headphones weren’t doing enough. His second problem was that he might be a little tiny bit drunk. Just a little. But it wasn’t his fault. About an hour into his struggle, some random guy had stumbled up to him, a massive drink in one hand and a single red converse in the other.

“Hey, man. This your shoe?”

Yoongi, still buried in his attempt at composing, just wriggled both feet in the air. “Nope. Got both shoes. See?”

“Okay! Thanks, man!”

Yoongi waved in response, still not looking up at him.

“Oh, hey, would you mind holding onto my drink? It’s just too much to bear carrying all this around, and I wouldn’t want to spill anything on this shoe. I mean have you seen this shoe? It’s a convers. A _red_ converse. It’s _amazing_.” He shoved the drink into Yoongi’s hand.

“Wait...what? Converse? Red?” But the guy had already run off.

 _Was that Namjoon’s converse?_ Yoongi looked down at the drink now in his hand and back to the empty spot where the guy had been. _Oh well. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Hmmm. Maybe alcohol will make it better._ He sniffed the drink. _Fuck it._

And this is how, another hour later, Yoongi found himself drunk. (Okay, maybe not drunk _per se_ but at least tipsy. He wasn’t Jin.) But this wasn’t his current problem. Oh no. His problem at this specific moment was the fact that some _person_ had made themselves at home on his lap. A very large person (at least in comparison to himself). And the kicker, _the kicker_ , is that he also seemed to be trying to serenade him with a ukulele. _A ukulele!_

 _Where did he even find a ukulele?_ Yoongi contemplated throwing the intruder off of his lap, but what about the ukulele? He didn’t want it to break in his drunken attempt at reclaiming his personal space. So he just sat there as this boy man person began singing and glared. Glared at him with all his might while the man boy just stared back at him, smile breaking across his face as he continued strumming.

\-----

“So you see, girls _like_ it when you randomly come up to them and squeeze their butts.”

Jimin nodded at the wise hyung before him, eyes so wide it was like he was trying to drink in the information through them.

“And always drink beer before taking a shot. Or anything with liquor really. Actually, here,” Youngjae handed his half finished beer to the boy. “Finish mine! I’ll go get us some shots!”

Youngjae made for the kitchen, laughing quietly to himself. _Poor kid. He’s not too bad. I kind of feel sorry for how he’s gonna feel in the morning._ He walked into the kitchen and headed towards the cabinet where he had hid his liquor at the beginning of the night. As he crouched down to open it, he heard shouting behind him.

“Yeah!” a lilac haired boy yelled, pumping his fist in the air as the ping pong ball landed in the last remaining solo cup.

Youngjae stood up, forgetting his original purpose. He had seen this guy winning all night long. _Challenge accepted._

\-----

Jinyoung couldn’t find Yugyeom or Bambam. He also couldn’t find any of his other friends, or at least ones that were sober enough to look for them with him. Instead he had found Youngjae, who had apparently decided to mess around with one of the obviously younger, innocent students by passing on “good advice.” He had watched the boy following along diligently with whatever stupidity Youngjae was telling him, soaking it up like a sponge. _This is not good. At all._ So when Youngjae finally left his new prodige for the kitchen, Jinyoung approached.

“Hey! I’m Jinyoung! I’m a friend of Youngjae’s.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Jimin!”

Staring at the naive face, Jinyoung debated telling Jimin immediately about his situation. _Might as well get it over with._ “So, Jimin, what were you and Youngjae talking about?”

“Oh! He was giving me lots of great advice! Like how you should always drink beer before taking shots!”

Jinyoung couldn’t stop himself from face palming. “Look, kid, Youngjae’s a great guy. I mean he’s my friend, but you should most definitely _not_ listen to whatever he just told you. Okay?”

Jimin was confused. He had just made a new friend, and now some guy was trying to tell him that his new friend was liar. “I don’t know if I believe you? I don’t even know you.”

“You don’t know the other guy either. Don’t give strangers your heart, Jiminnie,” a voice slurred from the couch. Jimin looked over in time to see Jin pass back out, one arm slung over the armrest, cushioning his head.

“No.” He shook his head in disbelief. “No, I’ll prove it to you! Both of you! Just watch!”

He walked over to the nearest girl, immediately reaching out to grab her butt. The girl let out a shriek and before anyone could step in, bitch slapped the hell out of Jimin. She looked him up and down, disgusted and stormed away.

Jimin slowly turned back to face Jinyoung, shell-shocked. Jinyoung shrugged. “Told ya, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you wanted to know what Namjoon and Hoseok were waltzing to: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMoyvHwPCrU>


	4. Chapter 4

Mark paid little attention to the smaller boy that had slid ungracefully into the tub next to him as he finished the most important thing on his mind at the moment - breaking the seal. He finished up and began washing his hands, sparing a glance at his bathroom companion who was still sitting haphazardly in the tub, clutching his plunger for dear life. Mark shuddered at the thought of where and what that plunger had seen, and tried in vain to repress the thought that it had come in contact with his head, evidenced by the knot that was already forming.

“You- you’re not going back out there, are you?” The boy questioned fearfully.

“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s a party and there’s free booze.”

“But, what about the _girls_?”

“Look, what’s your name, kid?”

“Jungkook,” he replied.

“Ok, Jungkook, why are you so afraid of girls? Like, it’s not normal. You’re a guy, you have hormones and needs and I just don’t get your aversion to the fairer sex.”

“Well, I - I guess it’s just because they’re so _different_ , you know? Like, they smell all nice, and their hair is so shiny, and their nails are like claws, and they wear these tight tops and short skirts and I just don’t know how to handle how I feel…” 

Mark sighed in realization - no one had ever given this kid “the talk,” obviously.

“Look, Jungkook, when a guy gets to be your age, certain _things_ happen in your body that may make you feel strange or different. You may get excited over seeing a girl in a tight dress and notice things happening to your body that don’t normally happen, but it’s totally normal. In fact, girls go through a similar process -”

“Wait, you mean girls have the same, uh, pants situation?”

Mark shifted his weight from one foot to the other, gaze shooting to the ceiling as he wondered how he had gotten himself into this mess and how he _definitely_ wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly the same… I just… Look. Suffice it to say that on the inside, girls are just as nervous around you as you are around them.”

“But they seem so confident?”

“And you think you don’t? Look, I promise if you go out there and act like you own the world and no one can take that away from you, act secure in yourself, that they will respect you and maybe even be too intimidated to come talk to you.”

“Really? All I have to do is act swag and they’ll leave me alone?”

“That’s not really what I - you know what, sure, yeah, act swag. So, uh, can I leave the bathroom now? No offense, but this is kinda weird. You should probably leave too. The next person who comes in here may not be so understanding when a kid attacks him with a plunger.” Mark smiled and ruffled Jungkook’s hair before turning around and unlocking the bathroom door. He walked out and glanced back over his shoulder to see Jungkook staring contemplatively at the plunger still clutched in his hands as he sat on the edge of the tub.

—–

After escaping from Namjoon’s misguided attempt to waltz by unceremoniously tripping him and running away, Hoseok tried to figure out what to do about his missing Kookie situation. The situation was not helped at all by his lack of voice. Now he couldn’t even yell his name over the throngs of people inhabiting the party house. _Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually… I mean, after all, how much trouble can one kid get in? He’s afraid of girls, so I don’t have to worry about him getting someone pregnant, and there are girls in the kitchen, so he can’t get drunk. He’ll be fine, yeah._

The logic of drunk Hoseok was astounding. After making his way around the many couches in the living room, _seriously, who needs all these couches_ , he noticed that Seokjin had also given up the search for Jungkook and was instead napping on one of the couches. _Good for him_ , Hoseok thought, _being the mom of six is hard. He deserves a nap._

Hoseok stumbled into the back of one couch that contained a very disgruntled looking Yoongi, who was apparently being serenaded by an overgrown child playing the ukulele? However, the sweet melody he was playing was suddenly drowned out by Hoseok’s kryptonite – the song Touch My Body by Sistar.

 _Oh **hell** yes. This is my jam._ Hoseok careened into the middle of the dance floor, and immediately launched into the body wave chorus. When he turned to begin the butt shaking part of the choreography, he noticed a skinny yet well-dressed man also dancing the choreography. He was dancing quite well, actually. Almost _too_ well.

//

Bambam was _drunk_. And he was loving every minute of it. He loved the way he was moving through the party, seeing it all but feeling apart from it, the room illuminated in a hazy light. Suddenly, he heard his favorite song, Touch My Body begin to play over the speakers and began to dance sloppily to it. As he spun around to begin the butt shaking chorus, he noticed another guy, tall and with dark hair dancing the full choreography as well. Stopping mid-butt shake, Bambam ran over to him and shook his hand.

“Hi, I’m Bambam, do you like Sistar too?”

The man nodded his head vigorously before gesturing between Bambam and himself and then pointing to the speakers and giving a thumbs up.

“What? Can’t you talk?”

The man shook his head and clutched his throat.

“Oh, have you lost your voice?”

The man nodded again and smiled.

“Well, that’s ok, we can still dance together, right?”

The man nodded for a third time, and the two began dancing to EXID’s Up and Down, grinning at each other all the while.

—–

Jackson had been stumbling around the majority of the night trying to find the owner of the single red converse high that he held in his hand. He knew that the owner was probably rather tall, at least based on the size of the shoe. He also knew that the owner of the shoe was probably male, judging by the smell of the shoe. In his inebriated state, he imagined himself to be Prince Charming, seeing he was running around with a shoe, and he was rather charming. However, all the people that he had been comparing the shoe to all evening had had both of their shoes on. He was getting frustrated, unsure as to why his mission was so important to him, but if there was one thing Jackson Wang was not was a quitter.

Suddenly, a large crash could be heard from the direction of the kitchen.

//

Namjoon simply didn’t understand it. He had been so good at the keg stands earlier. Now, he was flat on his back on the cold tile floor of the kitchen, wondering what had happened for him to lose his streak, and just why on earth the ceiling was spinning. At some point in the evening, he had lost one of his converse, which he supposed he should feel bad about considering they were his babies, however, he currently didn’t give two shits. His other shoe was abandoned just within his line of vision, right at the entrance of the kitchen.

//

Making his way towards the crash he had heard, Jackson noticed the mate of the shoe he held in his hand lying in the entrance to the kitchen. He let out a frustrated groan. _How am I ever going to find the owner now?? Tons of people are walking around barefoot!_

Before his thoughts could progress too much, he saw a man lying on the floor of the kitchen, a man that was barefoot.

“Hey, dude, are these your shoes?” Jackson asked.

The man rolled glassy eyes towards Jackson, and he let out a noncommittal grunt.

“Was that a yes?”

“Why is the room spinning? Am I seeing the actual rotation of the planet on its axis? Is this the true purpose of being drunk?”

“Dude, shoes, are they yours?”

“But am I feeling the planet spinning or am I spinning? No, that doesn’t make sense, I can’t be an immovable object in the center of the universe – “

Frustrated with the drunk man’s rambling, Jackson took it upon himself to simply try the shoes on the man. He unlaced the shoes and slid them on the man’s feet. They were a perfect fit!

“Ah yes! Who’s the best finder in the world? JACKSON!” Jackson stood up and began a drunken happy dance, unaware that the owner of the converse was watching him with a lopsided smile on his face. 

—– 

Yoongi was convinced that he was in hell. Some giant _idiot_ was lying across his lap, and had knocked his laptop to the floor. The man had also yanked Yoongi’s expensive headphones off of his head, and perhaps the worst sin the man had committed was his absolutely _horrible_ ukulele playing. Yoongi was all for a good ukulele solo, but this bowl haircut boy had absolutely no talent for it. Not to mention, this was taking away from Yoongi’s precious time he had set aside to work on his mix tape.

However, the overgrown child didn’t seem to be going anywhere soon, and unfortunately Yoongi was too small to push him off. Resigning himself to his fate and vowing to murder the other boys once they got home, Yoongi aggressively chugged his drink.

//

Yugyeom was having the time of his life. He just knew, _just knew_ that his future was to go at it as a solo artist playing ukulele. He even already had his first fan. The guy currently sitting under him. Wait until he tells his hyungs. Wait, his hyungs…. He’d have to leave them in order to go at it as a solo artist…

“Hey, I know you’re my fan and all, but can I ask you a question?”

The man paused in the gulping of his drink to give him a look that would have killed a less inebriated man.

“I am _not_ your fan.”

“Great, so, I think I’m pretty great at the ukulele, I mean, obviously, but the life of a solo artist is so _hard_. And _lonely_. And for all the posturing and everything I do, I really do love my hyungs.”

“Then maybe you should go bother them instead.”

“But, the fame and girls and –“

“Look, you have to find what you’re passionate about and just do it, ok? Like, my passion is music. Producing it, rapping, I do it all. But, it’s nothing if you don’t have friends. Your friends are the ones who encourage you to do better. So, if you really want my advice, talk to your hyungs.”

Yugyeom looked at the smaller man in shock. He was actually a lot smarter than his frivolous minty green hair suggested.

“Hey, can I call you hyung?”

Yoongi looked up at the young hulking idiot in shock.

“No. But you can call me Yoongi.”

—–

Jaebum was _not_ having a good time. As the designated driver for the night, and as the leader of his friend group, he was in charge of making sure no shenanigans happened at the party. And now, four hours into the party, he had lost track of Mark completely, BamBam was dancing like an idiot with some guy on a table, Jackson had been running around looking for the owner of a shoe for some reason, Youngjae looked like he was harassing a freshman, and Jinyoung was consoling some crying freshman that Jaebum had just seen get the shit slapped out of him by a chick. To say the night was going to hell in a handbasket was an understatement.

Wandering through the living room of the house, Jaebum spotted a man passed out on the couch. The man was beautiful, ethereal in his looks, and wait, _was he even breathing?!_ Panicking, Jaebum rushed over to the man, looking for the rise and fall of his chest under his over sized sweater, and not seeing it. He noticed the man’s lips looked slightly blue and chapped, and without even thinking of the consequences, Jaebum sucked in a gust of air, lowered his mouth to the man’s, and blew the air into his lungs.

—–

Jinyoung sighed. _What did he do to deserve this?_ The poor kid, Jimin, that Youngjae had been giving bad advice to all night had just gotten the shit slapped out of him by some girl.

“I told you Youngjae gives shit advice.”

Jimin’s eyes were watering from the force of the slap, and his poor drunk brain just couldn’t handle all the stress. He began to cry.

Jinyoung freaked out. He didn’t know how to deal with crying people at all.

“Kid, stop crying. Please. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and get some ice for your face.”

Jinyoung gently guided Jimin with a hand at the small of his back to the kitchen, where he left him at the doorway while he walked over to the freezer to look for some ice, or frozen peas or something.

Jimin had stopped crying by this point, and glanced around the kitchen. His gaze fell upon his lilac haired friend who was currently engrossed in conversation with someone by the beer pong table. Wait. Oh hell no. He was talking to Youngjae. Jimin wasn’t going to let his best friend get hurt the same way he had been.

He grabbed a nearby shot from the kitchen counter, chugged it ( _oh god, it tasted like tequila_ ), and strode over to Taehyung and Youngjae. He tapped Youngjae on the shoulder, and as Youngjae turned to face him, Jimin pulled back his fist and let it fly, catching Youngjae on the cheek and causing him to fall onto the beer pong table.


End file.
